


VIPER

by pouty_hoseok



Series: Claws [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood, Car Accidents, Childhood Trauma, Homophobia, Hybrid Park Seonghwa, Immigration & Emigration, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, Park Seonghwa-centric, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, Snakes, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pouty_hoseok/pseuds/pouty_hoseok
Summary: Beware of the boy who hides in the shadows. Beware of the boy whose teeth are too sharp, whose eyes are too perfect, whose tongue is too strange. Beware of the boy whose smile is too fake, whose heart is too cold, whose mind is so broken.Beware of the viper.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Park Seonghwa/Original Character(s)
Series: Claws [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072442
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	VIPER

**Author's Note:**

> Ok!!! Huge T/W - Seonghwa is underage for a lot of this! He drinks/smokes/has sex when he's a minor and the character he's with is a lot older than him!!! There's no description of it, but please, if any mention of these things makes you uncomfortable, please don't read this! It's a big part of the story and Seonghwa's character. Also, there's a little bit of Seonghwa having romantic feelings for San, just a heads-up, though it's like two seconds.

Seonghwa is born into a small, hidden village that's close enough to Jinju that Seonghwa calls the city home. Of course, as an unnamed species of snake hybrid, he’s never been allowed out of the forest that his village hides in. It’s home, though, and Seonghwa’s never known anything else - he’s just a little snake hybrid, small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but perfectly happy with the way things are. 

He, in the very least, has Minseok. Minseok, his wonderful older brother who steps up as a father because Seonghwa’s never had someone like that. In the village, though, the community is knit together enough that he hardly notices, especially with Minseok watching over him. Despite their five year age difference, the two brothers get along surprisingly well. And Seonghwa genuinely thinks that everything will be okay.

They come suddenly, bursting Seonghwa’s little bubble of life. His world begins to crumble the moment one of Minseok’s friends bursts through the door while Seonghwa and Minseok play on the floor of the kitchen, talking quietly in their dialect, voices distorted slightly by their lisps. 

“Poachers,” the boy in the door says breathlessly. Seonghwa and Minseok stop their playing and look up at their mother as she dries her hands on a towel. 

“Eomma?” Minseok says, getting up. “Eomma, what’s-”

“Minseok, Seonghwa, go hide,” Eomma says, her tone leaving no room for argument. Seonghwa grabs onto Minseok as his brother brings him to their shared bedroom, covering his ears. 

[ _Good Lil Boy_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l67HgWSSVdc)

The sound of gunshots cuts through the air, mixed in with the screams. Minseok’s hands slam over Seonghwa’s ears and he presses his little brother against the wall, breathing heavily. Seonghwa can’t even think straight as his eyes dart around the room fearfully, drinking in his surroundings.

 _Eomma, Eomma,_ Seonghwa thinks pitifully, eyes darting around. More gunshots, closer this time. Eomma rushes into the room and kisses them both on the head, and then she’s gone. 

“EOMMA!” Seonghwa shrieks as his mother pulls away. Minseok curses, something Seonghwa has never heard him do, and then there are more gunshots. Seonghwa cries out as his older brother pushes him out of the window, glass shards skittering away from them and digging into his skin. 

“Hyung, Hyung,” Seonghwa cries as Minseok follows him. He presses a finger to his lips and shakes his head, grabbing Seonghwa by the wrist and dragging him through the jungle. They disregard grace or any sort of delicacy as they run, blood leaving small red speckles behind them. Seonghwa’s bare feet are cut by the twigs on the ground, though he can’t bring himself to care as he and Minseok crash through the forest, breathing heavily. 

“Hyung, Hyung, Minseok-Hyung,” Seonghwa pants. Minseok stops and turns around to look at his brother, and Seonghwa finds that his cheeks are just as wet with tears as his own. Minseok clicks his tongue and tugs a leaf over, gently cleaning the few cuts on Seonghwa’s face. They sting from the salt of his tears and Seonghwa whimpers, shutting his eyes as Minseok tries his hardest to tend to his little brother’s wounds. 

“Where did they go?” a gruff voice demands. Minseok stops and then he grabs Seonghwa’s wrist and keeps dragging him along. They find an old, dying tree that Minseok shoves Seonghwa under before joining him, panting heavily while Seonghwa makes quiet little sounds in the back of his throat. 

“Quit whimpering, Seong,” Minseok growls. The little boy stares at him with wide eyes. “I’ll bite you and leave you here if you’re gonna make noise.” 

“No!” Seonghwa cries, grabbing Minseok’s shirt. “No, Hyungie-”

“Be quiet, then,” Minseok hisses. Seonghwa accidentally lets another whimper slip and his brother curses yet again, pressing his face against the soil. Seonghwa breathes heavily as he stares at the glistening shell of a beetle, sniffling and glancing up at his brother. 

“Just - just be quiet, Seong,” Minseok whispers. He begins playing with Seonghwa’s hair, using his free hand. “It’s okay. Hyung will protect you.” 

_Protect from the other hybrids,_ Seonghwa thinks, eyes darting around. Minseok loosens the grip he has on him and Seonghwa relaxes into his embrace, tears further soaking into the mud. 

“Boys?” a voice calls, masculine and disgustingly kind. Minseok’s claws unsheathe and press into Seonghwa’s skin. “Boys, come out now!” 

“Hyung,” Seonghwa whispers. Minseok hisses at him. “Hyung, what-”

“Shut up, Seong!” Minseok says. He digs his claws into Seonghwa’s arm. “I don’t know. Just be quiet and we’ll get out of this.” 

Seonghwa nods, his lower lip quivering as he presses closer to Minseok. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he’s quite certain that neither of them is very happy with the situation and would really enjoy a change in scenery. 

Luckily for them, they both get that. Of course, though, the catch is that it’s when one of the hunters lifts the log hiding them. 

“Hyung!” Seonghwa shrieks as Minseok is lifted by the scruff of his neck. The hybrid growls and kicks his legs, lifting his hand, but a muzzle is slammed over his face and his wrists are bound behind him. 

“Run, Seong!” Minseok yells. Seonghwa leaps from the tree but he’s grabbed, dragged away and given the same treatment as his brother. The two hybrids are dumped into the back of a truck and Seonghwa worms closer to his older brother, whimpering softly. 

“Seong,” Minseok whispers, drawing the attention of his little brother. Seonghwa glances up and finds a trickling red stream coming from Minseok’s nose, and his eyes are glassy with tears. “Seong, listen to me.” 

“Hyung?” Seonghwa whispers back. Their words are muffled by the contraptions on their faces, but Seonghwa has a feeling that Minseok’s isn’t going to be there for much longer. Just as he’d predicted, Minseok’s muzzle falls, Seonghwa’s own following not long after. 

“Listen to me, okay, Seong?” Minseok says, and Seonghwa nods nervously. His brother kisses the scales by his eyes, smiling sadly at him. “I love you, okay? Now close your eyes.” 

“I love you too, Hyungie,” Seonghwa whispers. Minseok shakes his head and nuzzles him, and then Seonghwa’s eyes fall shut. 

A sudden pain erupts in his shoulder then. Seonghwa shrieks and Minseok joins in, jostling their cage as he thrashes violently. Seonghwa forces his eyes to stay closed as his shoulder throbs, listening to the sound of Minseok’s ruckus. There’s yelling from the poachers in the front and Seonghwa can’t do much else but hold his knees against his chest and cry even more. 

And then, the car catches on something and swerves. Seonghwa shrieks, surprised and still terrified, reaching for one of the metal bars of his cage with his bound hands. He shuts his eyes and braces for the impact, not having noticed that Minseok is fighting to the death in the front of the vehicle. 

There’s a boom, and Seonghwa’s eyes fall shut as he sobs and shivers in the back of the car. He doesn’t know what happens in the time where he floats between passed out and conscious, though he doubts it’s good. Especially since the car is in flames when he finally wakes up. 

“Min-Minseok-Hyung?” he whispers hoarsely, looking around. There are three bodies in the front of the flaming vehicle, and Seonghwa’s panic spikes as he hurls himself forward and grabs at the smallest of them. 

“Hyung!” he shrieks, shaking Minseok. His neck is twisted, far too much for it to be okay. His eyes are glazed over and they stare blankly back at Seonghwa, jaw hanging open. 

“Hyung, get up!” Seonghwa yells, holding his brother by the shirt. His blood is wet and warm against Seonghwa’s skin, from the wound in his gut to the smaller injuries on his face. Seonghwa thinks he registers a pain against his left temple and the feeling of something dripping down over his skin. “Hyung!” 

Minseok stares back at him, blood trickling weakly from his mouth. His nose isn’t bleeding anymore and Seonghwa sniffles, wiping his nose with his arm.

“Hyung,” Seonghwa says, breathless and crying. “Hyung, stop!” 

_He’s dead,_ something whispers. _He’s dead, you have to get up._

Seonghwa shrieks furiously, turning to the two other bodies in the car. He grabs one of them by the hair and slams it into the wheel, feeling a sick sense of victory as the blood from the body begins to pour. He doesn’t know how many times he does it, but he does know that his arm is sore at the end. 

_Good,_ Seonghwa thinks, still dripping with blood and sweat and anger. He digs his nails into the scalp and yanks, pulling a chunk of black hair out. 

And then, suddenly, he’s scarily aware of how his dead brother is staring at him. The angry, devastated part of Seonghwa wants to keep destroying the men who killed his family, but another part of him wants to look over and cry in Minseok’s arms.

 _Seong,_ Minseok’s voice echoes, _Seong, don’t become the monster. You’re better than this. Don’t become the villain of your own story._

“Hyung!” Seonghwa cries, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Hyung!”

_Keep moving, Seong._

Seonghwa sniffles and hugs himself, glancing over at Minseok’s body. While he was crying, it began to drizzle, the sky darkened by large, gray storm clouds. Seonghwa blinks and sniffles again, and then he crawls over to Minseok’s body and gently pulls the knife out, lifting him up. 

He cleans his brother off in a small stream nearby, though an eight-year-old boy isn’t exactly the best choice for burial traditions. But Seonghwa tries, going so far as to knick himself and his brother, painting his name in blood so he doesn’t forget. 

“I love you, Hyung,” Seonghwa whispers, hugging Minseok. He stares at the little pit he dug, then, before dragging Minseok over and placing him inside. He makes sure nothing sticks out after covering his body with dirt, placing a large, gray stone over it. 

Seonghwa begins his wandering then. He’s sad and tired and lacks the energy to do anything other than walk and sleep, maybe catching the occasional rodent that comes his way. 

_Keep moving, Seong._

Seonghwa shakes his head, hugging himself and thanking whatever created snakes that it allowed them to avoid eating for long periods of time. Hunting takes up too much energy so all he has to do is sit near bodies of water, taking sips every so often, and then sleeping or walking. The ache in his feet has numbed enough that Seonghwa no longer minds it, and he cleaned the rest of his wounds as best as he could, though there’s not a lot he could do - he just has to hope he finds another village soon.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he eventually begins to hear the sound of people. The forest begins to thin, trees growing sparse, and Seonghwa can see the faint silhouettes of buildings in the distance. 

“Hello?” he yells. He can see people, _he can see people._ “Hello?!” 

The people look up and Seonghwa’s heart rate spikes as his instincts take over and he’s suddenly running toward them, tears streaming down his cheeks. He doesn’t care anymore that humans aren’t safe, he just wants to _rest._

He runs into a woman who speaks too quickly for Seonghwa’s sluggish brain to keep up, but all he knows is that she smells somewhat similar to his mother, and that’s enough for him. Seonghwa holds onto her and sobs, legs wrapping around the woman’s middle. He’s lost weight, he knows, and he can see how skinny and knobby-kneed he is. It’d be very surprising for him to be rejected. 

“Help, please help,” he whispers weakly, looking up at the woman with wide eyes. “Please, I don’t have anywhere else to go.” 

The woman is already carrying him toward wherever she lives, shooing any curious bystanders away from him and somewhat sparing Seonghwa’s pride as he clings to her. He’s bathed and then placed into a bed, and he passes out the moment his head hits the pillow. 

Seonghwa wakes to voices. His back is to the other people in the room, though he still feels terrified. Instinctively, his hands shoot to his scales and then his teeth, the pad of his thumb running over them. The taste of blood in his mouth makes him pull away, though he can’t stop his shivering, even as someone approaches.

The bed dips, and someone sits near his feet. A hand comes up to rest on his shoulder, and Seonghwa tenses, instincts preparing him to bite. 

“Are you awake?” a soft, older voice says. Seonghwa nods quickly, shutting his eyes. The owner of the hand and presumably the voice as well begins rubbing his arm, and Seonghwa bites his lip to contain a sob. 

“Why don’t you come have something to eat?” the voice asks. Seonghwa sniffles and slowly rolls over staring fearfully at the woman. She stares back, her face covered in a myriad of wrinkles and smile lines, looking worriedly at him. Seonghwa blinks a few times, eyes sweeping the room. He finds a small old man sitting on a chair, staring owlishly at him. Seonghwa tightens his grip on the blanket and looks away when the man notices him and winks. 

Eventually, though, the old couple coaxes Seonghwa out of the bed and manages to feed him some porridge. Seonghwa eats so fast that he vomits, and then he eats even more. 

He enjoys the week he spends with the old couple. He comes to call them Mr. and Mrs. Kim, and Seonghwa is thankful for how they seem to understand that he means nothing by it. They seem fine with the fact that Seonghwa constantly needs to complete his little rituals, accommodating for them rather easily. 

And then, of course, Seonghwa is sent to an orphanage. Mr. and Mrs. Kim couldn’t take care of him forever, so Seonghwa soon finds himself sitting in a room with several other boys, makeup covering his scales while a pair of contacts hide his other inhuman feature. His teeth are a lost cause so they write it off as a medical condition, not that Seonghwa cares. He’s just tired. 

“Seonghwa?” 

The snake hybrid looks up, blinking carefully at the man. He looks like he’s trying to appear as friendly as possible, though it only makes Seonghwa tense even more. He digs his nails into his palms and is tempted to slam his face into the man, fingers twitching. 

_Keep moving, Seong._

“Will you come with me, Seonghwa-ssi?” the man says. Seonghwa nods slowly and gets up, following him into a room. There’s a doctor there, watching him curiously. He asks questions and Seonghwa shrugs or mumbles something to respond, though he knows that everyone in the room is keeping track of every little thing he does. They notice the way he picks at his nails and tugs at his sleeves, the way he twists one specific strand of hair around his left first and middle finger, and everything else. Seonghwa hates it.

The only thing that comes from the strange experience is a bottle of pills that Seonghwa has to take daily. At first, he thinks they’re for his nightmares, but no - they simply make him less fiddly and obsessive about his little rituals, though he still does a few certain things. He rubs his wrist three times before going to bed and after waking up, and then he has to tie his shoes a certain way. But, other than that, Seonghwa seems to calm down a bit. 

His years spent in the orphanage blur together, and Seonghwa knows he won’t remember much. He knows that he’s an outcast, though, and that the other children don’t want him around. That’s fine, though, Seonghwa doesn’t care. He prefers to be alone. It’s easier that way. Even if his strange behaviors (not just the rituals - the screaming at night, his aversion to touch, his hissing and growling) make those in charge of the orphanage wary of him and questioning his sanity, Seonghwa will deal with it. He prefers to be alone anyway. 

He is adopted a little after he turns nine. They don’t reveal that he’s a human, instead using the name he gave when he met Mr. and Mrs. Kim, then hiding everything else and making him out to be a human boy. Park Seonghwa is eleven years old, born on April 3, 1998. He comes originally from Jinju but was left in an orphanage close to Seoul, and there is no other information on him. He goes to live in a house in the suburbs, somewhere near Gangnam, though he honestly can’t say he cares. 

“How do you like it, Seonghwa?” Mrs. Lee (Seonghwa will _not_ call this woman ‘Eomma’) asks. 

The hybrid surveys the house slowly, taking in the technology filling the place. It’s far different from ‘home’ because ‘home’ was small and had only three rooms, one for the kitchen/living room, one for Eomma, and one for Seonghwa and Minseok to share. 

“Here, I’ll show you your room,” Mrs. Lee says, gently taking Seonghwa and steering him toward the staircase. Seonghwa is tempted to scramble up on all fours, though he’s reminded that humans don’t normally do that. Pinching his arm, Seonghwa walks slowly up the stairs, looking around warily. 

“Here we go,” Mr. Lee says from behind him. Seonghwa stares blankly at the room, unfeeling and tired. But he turns around and tries to smile, though he’s sure that it just looks like a strange sort of grimace. 

“We’ll let Soyeon and Suho show you the ropes,” Mrs. Park says. Seonghwa nods as he drops his bag onto the bed and sits down, looking up as his adoptive siblings walk into the room. 

Very quickly, they begin disrupting everything. Seonghwa tenses on the bed and digs his nails into his palms, forcing himself to keep from attacking them. He wonders what would happen if he was to kill them. 

But, unfortunately, he doesn’t, and Seonghwa has to deal with the Parks for the next nine years. He prefers to hide in the safety of his room, drawing out whatever's going on in his head and then scratching up what he thinks isn’t valuable. Seonghwa soon learns, though, that his claws, teeth, and venom are all weapons - if Mrs. Park messes up his meticulously ordered room, her new drapes will have been torn to ribbons by the time she gets home. Seonghwa will hold his hands out to be punished, and he never tries to hide it. He knows he unnerves the Parks, from the twins to his ‘parents’, and it gives Seonghwa power. Their fear is what he builds nearly everything off of. 

But Seonghwa can’t always thrive off of the fear of his family. Especially not when he goes to school. 

At first, Seonghwa hides in the shadows. He’s perfectly fine with being ‘that one weird kid’. Seonghwa stays out of sight, and, because of that, out of mind. He does well enough in school that the teachers never need to talk about him, though he has a feeling that a lot of them think he’s a borderline psychopath. He doesn’t mind.

However, as Seonghwa gets older, his blank, boyish looks shift and change until he’s eye-catching in a way that makes it impossible for him to hide any longer. Seonghwa soon comes to find himself forced into the open, and, to be honest, he enjoys it. A lot more than he probably should, but Seonghwa doesn’t care.

He gets into fights a lot. At school, behind the bleachers, Seonghwa will fight the other boys because he’s still a freak, no matter how attractive he is. His teeth are still as sharp as knives and he still hardly says anything at all. So his nails become claws and his teeth are fangs as he racks up his detentions, sitting quietly outside of the office as Mrs. Lee once again meets with the principal.

“Come on, Seonghwa,” Mrs. Lee snaps, grabbing the boy by the wrist. Seonghwa follows along, staring silently at the ground. He sits silently in the car and stares out the window, blinking a few times. 

“You know,” she says, “we were really thinking about having you model. Seems like something you’d like to do.”

Seonghwa doesn’t answer. 

Mrs. Lee sighs. 

“We can’t, of course,” she says, acting as if Seonghwa has been saying things back to her and they’ve been having a normal conversation. “You’re a hybrid.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seonghwa snaps before he can think better of it. Mrs. Lee looks at him through the rearview mirror, raising her eyebrows. 

“What do you think?” she says. Seonghwa narrows his eyes and glares, turning back to the window. 

“Nothing, according to you,” he mumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Mrs. Lee tense. 

He is found making out with one of his classmates on the last day of his freshmen year. They’re hiding under the bleachers and Seonghwa has his boyfriend pressed close to him, their lips slotted together. Fingers comb through his hair and teeth clack clumsily, but Seonghwa has never minded such things. He wouldn’t even call Jaewon his actual boyfriend. They’re just boys looking for someone who’s willing, and they found each other. 

“Seonbaes!” 

Both males stumble away from each other, though Seonghwa is the first to look up. He sees one of their underclassmen from the nearby middle school, a girl who he thinks has a crush on Jaewon because Seonghwa’s gayness is so overt that he’d be surprised if girls could even think of him as attractive. 

“Fuck,” Jaewon says under his breath. Seonghwa swallows hard and wipes his lips with his forearm, locking eyes with the girl. And then his lips peel away from his teeth and he snarls. He can hear Jaewon run away behind him, but Seonghwa would be lying if he said it wasn’t expected. People don’t stay with things like him.

His adoptive parents must find out. Seonghwa is certain of it because when he sneaks downstairs to destroy more of the house in retaliation for Mr. Lee going into his room and taking his sketchbooks away, he hears voices. 

“-nice girl,” Mrs. Lee says. Mr. Lee nods. “She’s a wonderful girl. I think she’ll be able to help him.”

“He just needs some guidance,” Mr. Lee says. “A good, devoted wife will be able to do the job. It’ll be fine.” 

Seonghwa’s breathing gets heavy as he presses his back against the wall and digs his claws into the material. 

_No,_ he thinks. _No, oh my God, oh my God._ _They’re going to have some girl rape the gay out of me, oh my God, I have to get out of here._

Seonghwa shakes his head, trying to swallow his fear down. He sneaks another glance at the two people sitting in the dimly-lit kitchen and then he bolts. 

His plan is made quickly, though it’s probably pretty helpful that Seonghwa is someone who’s grown up running away. The next flight to New York City is two days after he hears about his arranged marriage, and, by then, Seonghwa has everything set up. He wires money to his account (from his adoptive parents and siblings) and uses it to buy a plane ticket. 

And then, late, late at night, Seonghwa leaves. 

Time blurs together. What he knows, though, is that less than twenty-four hours after sneaking out of the house, Seonghwa is setting foot on American soil. 

And then, as he stands with his suitcase, he realizes that he has nowhere to go. 

He ends up working as a dishwasher and waiter in a tiny restaurant that is trying to be some sort of East Asian but fails continuously as the white couple owning it try their hardest to make some sort of fusion food. They wear “traditional Chinese” clothing that makes Seonghwa’s skin break out in hives if it goes unwashed for too long, and the sauce sometimes makes his skin itchy and red. Seonghwa never eats anything they serve there. Most of his coworkers speak some sort of Chinese, and Seonghwa is the only person who speaks Korean. He picks up some Mandarin and Sichuanese, though, other than that, Seonghwa’s two languages are Korean and (just barely) English. 

His life changes, though, the day an older man comes in and starts talking with the owner. Seonghwa, someone who’s always preferred minding his own business, continues wiping down a table, though a quick glance at the man has him guessing that he’s got money. 

A glance in his direction and hungry eyes running over his body have Seonghwa swaying his hips a bit more than normal as he walks. He’s been paid to do _things_ before, though it’s never been contracted. 

“What are you doing?” one of his coworkers asks as they sit outside in an alley and smoke. Seonghwa shrugs, pulling the cigarette away from his lips to exhale a plume of smoke.

“Money’s scarce in these parts,” he says. He winks at her. “I’m not above bending over for it.” 

She laughs, shaking her head. Her English name is Mia, something that hadn’t made sense to Seonghwa because her Chinese name is Hua-Ying. She’d shrugged her shoulders at him and said it was easy to pronounce. 

“My parents would kill me if they figured out I had a sugar daddy,” she says. 

“My parents are dead,” Seonghwa retorts. He shrugs. “I don’t know what they think. My older brother would probably murder me, though.” 

Hua-Ying snorts, shaking her head. Seonghwa checks his BluScreen and then drops his cigarette, crushing it under his shoe. 

“I’ll see you later,” he says, waving. 

“Well, if everything goes well for you, then . . .” She wiggles her eyebrows and Seonghwa scoffs, shaking his head as he heads inside. 

He leaves work early. Seated in the back of a sleek black car, a strange man’s hand gripping his thigh as he signs a contract. Seonghwa is still only sixteen years old, though he looks older than he is. He could still probably file a lawsuit against his new sugar daddy if needed, though. 

_And besides,_ Seonghwa thinks, eying the way the man’s hand hungrily squeezes his flesh, _I could kill him right now if I wanted to. He can’t do anything to me._

Deciding that he’s comfortable enough with that knowledge, Seonghwa relaxes a bit. Andre - his new employer - takes notice and moves closer. 

Seonghwa is quick to make use of the money given to him. He’s much smarter than Andre thinks, and he finds the man to be surprisingly easy to manipulate. Even at sixteen years old, Seonghwa is cunning and more than willing to take advantage of people when it comes to his own success. Really, all it takes is him batting his eyelashes and whining a bit if he wants something. He becomes arm candy, then, even though he’s still a minor and could get Andre arrested. 

Of course, though, people don’t like Seonghwa. Especially the wives of the rich men like Andre. Seonghwa’s existence is proof that they can be replaced by a cute, young twink. 

“Whore,” someone whispers as Seonghwa walks by. The hybrid flips up his skirt, showing off the lace underneath, and he keeps moving. There are several gasps and Seonghwa smirks to himself, moving faster with his target in sight. 

“Can we go home, Andy?” he whines, clinging onto Andre. The man looks over and smiles fondly, reaching down to grab his butt. Seonghwa ignores the disgust he feels as he bats his eyes a bit, smiling in a way that he knows makes men weak in their knees. 

“Of course, sweetie,” he says. He turns to the other older men, proudly showing off the boy on his arm. “I’m afraid I have to leave, gentlemen. Duty calls.” 

Seonghwa gags inwardly as the other men laugh, but he’s gotten what he wants so he supposes that’s enough. He sits in the car and crosses his legs, pulling his phone out. 

Seonghwa stays with Andre that night, though it’s not something he enjoys. He heads home in the morning, though only after he’s left out a shitty breakfast he put together while half drunk. Andre can’t cook to save his life and he thinks that Seonghwa enjoys doing it (he does, just not for pedophilic bastards like his employer), so he’s given their contract a little addendum so that Seonghwa cooks whenever he stays the night. 

“Goddammit, fucking bastard,” he spits as he walks out. The fur of his coat is soft against his cheek and Seonghwa can admit that he gets paid good money. He’s working on convincing Andre to give him his inheritance as well, though it doesn’t help that his sugar daddy is an actual _dad_. Three boys and two girls, and then he divorced his wife. The two girls and two of the boys are older than Seonghwa, and one of them just turned seventeen. Seonghwa turns seventeen this coming April, so he says they’re the same age. 

Oh, how they _hate_ him. For some reason, the youngest - Jonathon or Joe or something stupid beginning with a J - is fully convinced that Seonghwa will become his step-father, and he’s managed to influence his older siblings as well. 

_What a power move_ that _would be,_ Seonghwa thinks as he takes the train to his apartment. _Becoming the step-dad of a bunch of kids older than me._

He shakes his head at himself, sighing. When he gets back to the luxury of his own apartment, he takes a bath and does a facemask, sitting in his room as he checks to make sure that he’s been getting all of his allowance. He’ll probably take a nap today and then he’ll look into more design schools, maybe think about convincing Andre to send him to one. 

“As if,” he scoffs to himself. “That dickhead thinks the only thing I’m good for is being a piece of ass.” 

Seonghwa sighs and gets up, heading to his wine cabinet. He sits on his counter and has a glass and then he heads out for a smoke. It feels like Seonghwa was simply _born_ to smoke. The feeling of the cigarette in his hand is just - it’s so _natural_ , the way it settles perfectly between his fingers. The nicotine gives him something to fight his rituals, making it so he doesn’t have to arrange his shoes in specific orders or check the stove and locks several times before bed/leaving. Life is just easier with a pack of cigarettes in his pocket, though it’s also probably shorter. 

(Good.)

As the time continues to hobble along, Andre stubbornly continues to live. He is certainly not young, and he _seems_ to be close to death, yet he’s somehow still going at it. Seonghwa rests his chin on his palm as he listens to Andre struggle, frowning. 

_How can he even get it up?_ he thinks. _I mean, holy hell, it’s been nearly a whole damn year since I came here, and this man is old as fuck. How is he still_ alive _?_

Seonghwa listens as Andre pants and then stops. It prompts the hybrid to lift his head and look around, tilting his head curiously. 

“I think - I think I love you, Sungha,” the man breathes. He never gets Seonghwa’s name right, even after all this time. He bites back the urge to roll his eyes as he reaches for his clothes and begins getting dressed, wiping whatever got onto his skin with a tissue. 

“Hmm.” He walks over and pours them each a glass of whatever hard liquor Andre has on hand, though Seonghwa’s always been more of a wine and champagne guy. It helps, though, to have a drink before doing anything sexual with Andre. 

He sits down and curls up next to the man, adjusting his robe. 

“Daddy,” he says sweetly, smiling up at the man, “I’ve been thinking . . .”

“What have you been thinking?”

Seonghwa hums again, drumming his nails on the plush arm of the chaise. He just started getting his nails done and he likes them quite a bit, though it did take a bit of getting used to. Of course, the fact that he normally has claws made it a lot easier.

 _How do I say that I want him to put me in his will as the one who receives the majority of his inheritance?_ Seonghwa thinks, frowning a bit. 

“Am I in your will?” he blurts. 

Andre looks at him and arches an eyebrow. Seonghwa’s plan is already beginning to form in his head. 

“Why - why yes, you are,” Andre says, clearly surprised by how sudden and straightforward Seonghwa’s question was. He shifts in place and reaches for his glass. “Why?” 

Seonghwa shrugs, smiling coyly as he loosens his robe a bit. 

“Oh, nothing,” he says. He takes a sip from his drink. “Just wondering.” 

The next time that Seonghwa joins his employer for a night, he’s got a small pack of some sort of drug used for date-roofies. Andre becomes both handsy and loose-lipped when intoxicated, so finding out how to get to his will shouldn’t be difficult, and neither should editing it. Putting in a codicil doesn’t seem to be hard, though Seonghwa will admit that he only did a little bit of research. 

Andre is out like a light, having blabbered his password to Seonghwa and given him enough information to get into his computer. He uses a wipe on his lipstick and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as he opens the will. 

Slowly, Seonghwa types the codicil. His hands are shaking with excitement as he does, breathing heavily as he stares at the screen with wide, eager eyes. 

When he finishes, he draws his hands away with a shaky sigh, staring wide-eyed at his work. He is now inheriting the bulk of Andre’s fortune as well as several of his cars and one of his estates. Seonghwa doesn’t plan on keeping any of them, of course, because he doesn’t want anything to do with Andre after the man dies. 

[ _SHE_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYeeNFL9pd0)

Of course, though, he doesn’t die in his sleep. Seonghwa isn’t stupid enough to put in a codicil about himself and then to kill the owner of the will. However, that means he has to deal with certain consequences. 

But Seonghwa is far from stupid. 

“Little _bitch,_ ” Andre hisses, jabbing a meaty finger in the boy’s direction. Seonghwa turns around and crosses his arms, pressing his forefinger against the small blade against his hip. 

“What was that?” he says, arching an eyebrow. “What did you call me?” 

“You drugged me,” Andre accuses. Seonghwa shrugs. 

“And? Trust me, I didn’t do anything to you while you were out. I wouldn’t even if there was a gun pressed to my head.” 

“I know you edited my will.” 

Seonghwa blinks at him a few times before he grins, showing off his teeth. And then he throws his head back and laughs, shoulders moving up and down as he does. 

He steps forward, heels clacking on the tiles of the kitchen floor. 

“Listen to me now,” he says softly, smoothly, “I’m seventeen. You’ve been fucking a minor for a year or so now. How do you think that makes you look, hm?” He tilts his head to the side, blinking curiously. “You hired me when I was sixteen. You know that, don’t you?”

Andre flounders and Seonghwa grins. 

“I might be younger, Andre,” he says, “but I’m still the one in charge. I still have the power. We’ve played it your way for quite a while, I think it’s time for a bit of a change to spice things up, don’t you think?” 

Andre shakes his head and Seonghwa laughs. 

“I could simply sue you for all of your money, then I could leave you to the wolves,” he says, idly tracing the hem of his sugar daddy’s shirt. “I’m not a dumb whore, buddy. I’ve just been making a plan.” He grabs his face, making sure his acrylic nails dig into his cheeks. “But whatever happens,” he whispers, leaning in so his lips are by Andre’s ear, “you do _exactly_ what I tell you to.” 

Andre gulps and nods quickly, his eyes wide with fear. Seonghwa smiles as he steps back, pulling the knife out from its little case against his hip. 

“Lovely,” he purrs. He winks. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Seonghwa leaves with a guarantee of the majority of Andre’s inheritance. Call him crazy, cruel, evil - he’s even heard psychopathic - Seonghwa doesn’t honestly care. He’ll do what he has to to get to the top, and it’s just a bit unfortunate that some people will get in his way. But, in the end, as long as Seonghwa wins, he’s happy. 

Seonghwa, unfortunately for Andre, though, is far from a patient person now that he’s so close to getting what he wants. It’s too risky to actually kill the man on his own because - if he _is_ to hire someone to kill Andre - he’s already one of the main suspects. No, he needs to find an easy, “natural” way to get rid of him. 

Seonghwa is eighteen years old when he meets San Choi. The other snake hybrid is loitering around outside of the building that Andre lives in, somewhere rather strange for a snake hybrid. Seonghwa stares at him before walking over, his arms crossed. 

“Hello,” he says charmingly, smiling and holding his gloved hand out. “What’s your name?” 

San reveals that he’s from Korea, looking for a job to bring his boyfriend over as well. Seonghwa offers him a job and a place to stay for the time being, and the other snake hybrid is quick to agree. 

“So, boss, what’re you thinking?” San says as he sits down. Seonghwa scowls and holds his glass of wine, swirling the liquid around inside. 

“Have you ever killed anyone before, Mr. Choi?” he says, tilting his head. San shrugs. 

“Is that the job?” 

“What’s your answer?” 

San laughs and leans forward, grinning to show off his sharp teeth. His pure-black eyes would probably unnerve someone else, but Seonghwa’s own eyes are just as strange. For some reason, San knows what he is, that the man before him isn’t a man but rather a fellow hybrid masquerading as a human. 

“I’ve done a few jobs here and there, back in Korea,” San says. He arches an eyebrow. “Why?” 

Seonghwa hums. 

“I need you to kill someone for me,” he says. 

San shrugs and nods. 

“Gimme the target and how you want it done, then I’ll take care of it,” San says. Seonghwa is surprised by how quick he is to agree with it, but he forces himself to keep a blank face. He doesn’t want San to see how eager and excited he is. 

“Wonderful,” he says. He begins writing some things down, humming to himself. 

“Make it as natural as possible,” he says. “I don’t want anyone to think he was murdered.” 

“Does he drink?” San says as he takes a look at the paper. Seonghwa nods. “A lot?” Another nod and Seonghwa can already see what San is planning to do. 

“No, not alcohol poisoning,” Seonghwa says. “Then something would have to happen to me as well. No, make it even _more_ \- like a health issue or something.” 

San hums and nods, reading over the information on the paper. Seonghwa watches him carefully over the rim of his glass, his eyes dark. 

“When do you want it done, then?” San says, sliding the paper into his pocket. Seonghwa eyes it as it disappears, and then he glances up at the other hybrid. 

“Burn that paper when you have the information memorized,” he says. San snorts. “And I don’t care. Just don’t - we don’t know each other. If you get caught, tell me, and I’ll take care of it.” 

Seonghwa nods, watching as San grabs his jacket and heads to the door. He pulls his shoes on and then walks out, not bothering to look back. 

He and San become acquaintances. San is kind to him, something Seonghwa hasn’t experienced many times in his life. When Seonghwa stays awake to hide from his nightmares, San comes over and they drink until neither of them can walk in a straight line. He makes Seonghwa laugh and, despite being a snake hybrid, he’s rather affectionate. Seonghwa allows him a few touches, though. His hand, his wrist, maybe a hug or two if Seonghwa is especially needy. 

“Hyung,” San says as he and Seonghwa watch TV, “you’re lonely.” 

“I’m an eighteen-year-old orphan living in my own apartment. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

San hums, sitting up. He pushes his hair back with one hand and looks sadly at Seonghwa, cupping his face. 

“Hyung, listen to me,” he says softly, “I know.” 

Seonghwa blinks at him a few times, trying to play dumb. It doesn’t work. 

“San-ah,” he says quietly, “don’t talk about it.” 

San shakes his head and turns away, slowly getting up. Seonghwa, stupidly, impulsively, grabs him by the wrist and tugs him down, pressing their lips together. 

“I love you,” he whispers desperately. “Please.” 

San pulls away, his eyes sad as he kisses Seonghwa on the top of his head.

“No, you don’t,” San says. He crouches down and cups Seonghwa’s face, kissing his cheek. “You - you don’t fall for people just because they’re kind to you.” 

“I know,” Seonghwa says. He presses his forehead against San’s. “I just . . . I really do love you, not that way, but-”

San silences him with a little hush, smiling and hugging him. 

“I know,” he says. He steps back. “I know, Hyung.” 

Seonghwa nods, staring after him as he goes. Unlike what he originally thought he’d feel, he’s relieved. His shoulders loosen as he watches San go, wiping his tears away. He goes to bed not long after, cleaning up and lying down in his silk sheets. 

He goes to bed, trying to prepare himself for another nightmare. He does not expect to wake up in a car, his wrists tied to the doors. Seonghwa shrieks and thrashes desperately. Everything feels so _real_ , it’s like he’s sitting in the actual leather seats of Andre’s limousine, and then-

“Where to, Hyung?” San says. Seonghwa screams and kicks his feet, shaking his head and thrashing. 

“Let me go!” he cries. San shrugs and turns around, but, when Seonghwa glances up into the rearview mirror, he instead sees the wide, empty eyes of Minseok staring back at him, blood pouring around him. He unsheathes his claws and tries to cut the strings tying him, but they’re rapidly approaching-

_Keep moving, Seong._

He wakes up gasping for air, but Seonghwa finds that he can’t move. He stares, wide-eyed and terrified, at Minseok’s corpse. Seonghwa’s voice comes out in weak little squeaks as he quivers, unable to look away. 

_No, no, no,_ he thinks desperately. _Hyung, leave me alone. Please, please, please._

Minseok continues to hover over him, and Seonghwa wishes he could get up and claw him to shreds. It’s been practically a decade since Minseok died, and Seonghwa is still hung up on his death. And Minseok continues to haunt his younger brother, making sure he never forgets that he died for him and now he’s turned into a manipulative bitch.

 _Hyung,_ Seonghwa thinks weakly. _Minseok-Hyung, please leave me alone._

And then, just like that, Seonghwa is pulled up by invisible strings with a gasp. He looks around the room, hungrily drinking in the sight of his empty bedroom. 

“Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

[ _I’m Not Cool_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3METvWkYno)

He gets an article mailed to him the next morning. Despite it being anonymous, Seonghwa knows who sent it as he tears the package open and reads about the CEO of some big company found dead in his apartment. They say it was from a heart attack, something that was already common in his family. 

Seonghwa grins, getting up slowly. Well then, he supposes he should get ready for the reading of the will. 

The snake hybrid paints his lips in red, grinning at himself. He’s wearing a black, long-sleeved crop-top and a pair of fishnets beneath it. They peek out and reach his bellybutton, though the black jeans he’s wearing hide a lot of them. His shoes are by the door, but they’re big, chunky shit-kickers with heels on them. 

Funnily enough (though he did it on purpose), everything he’s wearing is something Andre bought for him. Even the jewelry he’s wearing was picked out by the man whose death he’s technically responsible for. 

Seonghwa puts on his sunglasses and adjusts his bag as he gets out of the car. He walks up the path to Andre’s main estate, trying to look sullen. The bubblegum he’s chewing pops and Seonghwa turns to spit it out on the ground, then he continues walking.

“Why are you here?” the youngest child asks when the hybrid enters. Seonghwa ignores him and goes to sit down, crossing his legs and taking his sunglasses off. 

“I cared about him too,” he lies. “Also, someone called me and told me to come.” 

The boy narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. Seonghwa stares back, smirking a bit just to be even more aggravating. 

_Your father’s filthy money is going to send me to college. How’s it feel?_

“What did you do?” he says. Seonghwa arches an eyebrow, surprised. 

“What?” 

“You had something to do with this,” he says. “I don’t know what, but-”

“All right, then,” the lawyer says, entering the room. She sits down and smiles at them all. “Why don’t we get started?” 

Seonghwa nods and shifts in his seat, turning to face the lawyer. He can see Andre’s children doing the same, and he begins to wonder where his wife is. 

“I, Andre Garcia, in the events of-” the woman reads, and Seonghwa zones out. 

“-leave the entirety of my assets to Seonghwa Park, my dearest companion-”

“What the fuck?” one of Andre’s children cries. He turns to look at Seonghwa as the hybrid feigns surprise. “He wouldn’t do that! That’s his twink!” 

Seonghwa tenses in the seat. 

“Actually,” he says, feeling around in his bag and pulling out a little box that San mailed with the article, “I’m a bit more than that.” He opens the box and pulls out the ring, grinning at the message. He turns to smile at the children. “If not for the heart attack, I would’ve become your stepfather.” 

He has never seen so many people get angry at once. Seonghwa turns back to the lawyer and gestures at her to continue, adjusting in his seat. 

The will reading ends not long after that little reveal, and Seonghwa walks out with a ring on his finger. He’ll sell it, though only after he enrolls in a school. He could probably pay his way in, or he could fake an education. Either way, he doubts that he’ll have any trouble. 

And then, from then on out, Seonghwa is done with the Garcias for the rest of his life. 

San brings Wooyoung to his apartment. He’s a fox hybrid, pretty and nice just like his boyfriend. Seonghwa welcomes them inside, offering wine and home-cooked Korean food. 

“That’s amazing,” Wooyoung says, tail wagging behind him. Seonghwa shrugs. 

“It’s nothing, really,” he says. He’s been talking about how school is going for him, and he can tell that Wooyoung is interested in it. “You like fashion?” 

Wooyoung shrugs, blushing and looking away as San cries, “He’s great with makeup!” 

Seonghwa hums, turning to the fox hybrid and resting his chin on the palm of his hand. 

“Are you, now?” he says. Wooyoung blushes and shrugs, his face red as his eyes dart away. San had told him - well, he’d ordered him - not to comment on his boyfriend’s body because Wooyoung is a recovering addict, and he’s still pretty insecure about the way he looks. 

“Well,” he says, “I’m planning on starting my own brand. I could use some help.” 

Wooyoung’s eyes grow wide as he turns to San eagerly, tail wagging so fast that it becomes a tan blur behind him. 

“Really?!” he says. “I - I’d love that! Really, thank you so much!” 

Seonghwa shrugs and drinks more wine. 

“How did you do it?” he asks San later. The other boy looks over and arches an eyebrow.

“You’d be surprised by how dangerous oxygen can be,” he says, winking. Seonghwa hums and takes another drag from his cigarette. 

“I’ll see you guys at my show,” he says. He hands San a slip of paper. “Here. It has the date and address, don’t worry about tickets. Just say you’re here to help.” 

And then Seonghwa heads into his apartment and goes to his bedroom. 

College is easy. Seonghwa relieves his stress by inviting his classmates to his bed, though he never stays with anyone for more than a night. It’s unfortunate, too, that most of his classmates are female, though Seonghwa makes do with what he can. He doesn’t befriend anyone, partly because he’s moved to a more prestigious class, and then he changes classes yet again. He might not be nice, but he knows his professors and classmates all agree; Seonghwa Park is going places. 

His true debut as a designer is on his nineteenth birthday. It amazes Seonghwa that so little time has passed, though he hasn’t time to wonder how such a thing happened without him noticing it. He doesn’t care, not when he’s sewing together a stupid outfit that someone must’ve ripped. Wooyoung is doing someone’s makeup, talking to himself as he does. Seonghwa adjusts his heels and then speed walks over to the fox hybrid. Wooyoung cups his face and uncaps a bright red lipstick, running it over Seonghwa’s skin. He does his eyeshadow with the same shade of obscene scarlet, and then he’s out. 

Seonghwa is good enough at designing that he catches the eye of several important people. They come up to him after the show, asking questions, taking photos, and trying to find out more about him. Seonghwa plays coy because he knows that it’ll have them coming back, and also because he simply doesn’t care to answer every question. And that becomes his routine; blow his audience away, invite some more influential people backstage for a drink or two. He finishes college early with his degree and he’s already building _VIPER_ as a brand, though he has yet to start actually putting work out. 

Seonghwa designs to survive. It’s better than smoking, than alcohol, than sex - the stroke of the pencil makes his head spin in the best way, and his focus zeroes in one thing that he has complete control over. And Seonghwa _needs_ to be in control. He hates whenever he isn’t allowed to dictate and plan everything. With the pencil or needle in his hand, though, Seonghwa is the author of his own story and everything done is something _he_ created. 

Just as his success is. The bigger his audience gets, the better his money gets, and with better money, Seonghwa’s designs become even better. 

He thinks one of his favorite outfits is ‘ _Red’_. It’s a scarlet suit made of all leather, from his shoes to his jacket. Only his jewelry is different, though the rubies still glitter brightly, just like the obscene shade of vermillion painted over his lips and around his eyes. He adjusts his sunglasses and changes his pose, showing off his heels. He does another where he uses one of his nails - which, of course, are also just as red as the rest of his outfit - to pull his lower lip down, showing off his teeth. Seonghwa might be only nineteen years old, but he’s still dangerous. 

And, of course, he’s the CEO and founder of one of the biggest designer brands in the world, not to mention one of the youngest worldwide famous designers alive. The magazines rave about _VIPER_ and its founder, the articles ranging from slander to more praise than Seonghwa would even give himself. The cameraman waves his hand and Seonghwa nods, unbuttoning his jacket and then his shirt. He puts his jacket back on and then takes a seat in the white leather chair, looking down at the camera and biting his lip. He presses his nails into the leather of his seat and tilts his head, then he adjusts so he’s looking up at the camera through his lashes and past his sunglasses.

“We’re doing the new jewelry after this,” he says later, laying his jacket over a chair. He catches a glimpse of a familiar brown tail out of the corner of his eye as he’s wiping his makeup off, his chest catching. 

“Um, sir?” one of his new employees, Yeosang Kang, asks. Seonghwa hums in question as he adjusts his long black skirt, then turns to the jewelry around him. 

“Yes, what is it?” he says. “I haven’t got all day, do you need anything?” 

Yeosang gulps, nodding. 

“I - just - I have to go and see someone-”

“Be back soon,” Seonghwa says. He sits down as one of the few stylists he’s hired comes over to do his hair. He’s finished with his makeup, now all he has to do is put on the jewelry. 

“Yes, sir,” Yeosang says, scampering away. His long, spotted tail trails after him and Seonghwa watches him go through the mirror. He finishes with his hair and jewelry, though, and Seonghwa heads over to the set. 

He’s never minded being shirtless on camera. Hell, Seonghwa’s done shoots where the only thing he’s wearing was his underwear. He models his own brand, from his makeup to his jewelry, and Seonghwa isn’t insecure about his body. He’s got a damn good six-pack and he wouldn’t say he’s not muscular. Seonghwa knows he’s attractive, knows that he could walk around in just a long black skirt and his own jewelry. He adjusts the whatever-they’re-called on his nails, playing with the intricate gold designs. Seonghwa sits with his knees up and his legs spread, hanging his arms between them and looking up at the camera. He stops to grab a cigarette and lights it, eyes drawn to the movement near the door. 

Wooyoung and Yeosang are standing there, and Seonghwa is guessing that San is nearby. The snake hybrid and his boyfriend left Seonghwa’s company before it grew too much, leaving no explanation. Seonghwa paid San off and gave them both their paychecks and then he cut them both off. He has a feeling that Yeosang is yet to do the same. 

_He’s an addict,_ Seonghwa thinks to himself as he exhales a plume of smoke. The photographer races to snap a picture. _He’s going to kill himself if I keep giving him that money._

Seonghwa sighs to himself as he shifts, lying back on the black leather chaise lounge. He turns to face the camera and smirks a bit, then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. Someone comes over and Seonghwa opens one eye to watch as the person above him begins pouring champagne over his body, letting it pool in the creases of his muscles and drip over his skin. 

“Stop!” the photographer cries, and the champagne bottle is turned back upward, though the liquid still slides over Seonghwa’s skin. He brings his cigarette up to his lips and holds it there, sighing. 

The photoshoot ends and Seonghwa changes, looking through the pictures on his own. He deletes several of them and then writes down numbers, leaving a wad of cash on the table for the photographer. And then he heads home.

When he upgrades to his own building, he hires his second hybrid. Mingi Song is a mutt, and, despite being six feet tall, he’s extremely shy as he walks into Seonghwa’s office. 

“Mr. Song,” Seonghwa says, nodding at him. Mingi nods as he sits down, bowing his head. 

“Hello, sir,” he says. Seonghwa smiles, flashing his teeth. 

“Do you drink?” he says. He gets up and heads to his wine cabinet. “Would you like anything?” 

“No, thank you, sir,” Mingi stammers. Seonghwa hums as he pours himself a glass of wine, swirling the purple liquid around. He walks back over to his desk and sits down, looking at the tablet displaying Mingi’s information. 

“I’ll see you this coming Monday, yes?” he says as he skims through. Mingi’s jaw drops as Seonghwa continues to look. 

“You - you’re hiring me?” 

“No, I’d just like to have you wandering around my building. Yes, of course, I’m hiring you!” Seonghwa barks. Mingi jumps, surprised, as Seonghwa sits back and drops the tablet on the table. “Mr. Song, _please_. I don’t enjoy dealing with incompetents.” 

Mingi nods, schooling his expression, but Seonghwa can still see his tail wagging. It makes him happy, though he makes sure not to show it as Mingi happily leaves his office. 

Seonghwa has sleep paralysis again that night. Ever since he started taking medication, it’s gotten better, but there are still nights when he has nightmares and wakes up unable to move. Those nights are always the worst. 

Funnily enough, Minseok is Seonghwa’s sleep paralysis demon. His older brother appears as either a corpse or simply himself, just with a knife embedded in his stomach and his neck twisted. The corpse is the same, except its eyes are simply dripping pools of blood. Seonghwa doesn’t know which he hates more. 

His nightmares don’t make sense. Seonghwa did research once and he’s begun to wonder if it’s from PTSD, something his psychiatrist had diagnosed him with though Seonghwa had refused to explain anything about his childhood before being adopted. His OCD seems to affect it, though his psychiatrist has also told him that the two can have an impact on each other. Seonghwa doesn’t see his psychiatrist anymore. It’s done more harm than good to him.

But, at the very least, Seonghwa can design. He can re-organize his apartment, he can cook, he can drink, he can smoke - he can do all of these things to calm down. Minseok’s words echo in his head as he does them, replaying like a broken record. 

_Keep going, Seong. Keep going, Seong. Keep going, Seong._

The boy sighs as he sits back and stares blankly at the wall. He glances at his sketchpad and then shakes his head, moving it to the side and opening his computer. 

_Hybrid rebellion._

Several results appear though Seonghwa isn’t keen on looking at them. He clears his history and then decides he’ll try and de-bug his devices, something he’s started doing ever since he moved. 

Seonghwa begins donating to an organization that helps hybrids who are like him. They’re kids who are talented and trying to find work, so they’re sent to the U.S. (which, somehow, is known as ‘hybrid-tolerant’), though it’s a non-profit and few people want to give the organization money. Seonghwa is one of those few. 

He begins getting little notifications about the hybrids that he’s helped. They’re all close in age to him and it feels strange to think about how Seonghwa never even finished high school but he somehow managed to go through college faster than what should’ve been possible, though money and talent were definitely beneficial to him. But still . . . these are people his age. These hybrids are coming to the States just like he did, though they’re legal. 

_Oh my God, I’m an illegal immigrant._

Seonghwa gapes, staring wide-eyed at his office doors. Of course, now, because of Andre, he has citizenship, but he’s still - he still came to America illegally. 

“Oh my-”

“Sir!” 

Seonghwa’s head snaps up and he watches as Yeosang bustles in, Mingi following with his hands tucked under his armpits as he mumbles and protests. 

“What is it?” Seonghwa says, sitting up straighter and trying to look like he was being mysteriously productive. “Is something wrong?”

“Sir, do you have any bandages?” Yeosang says. Mingi hisses at him and Yeosang kicks his shin. “Mingi’s bleeding.” 

“No, it’s-”

“In my bathroom,” Seonghwa says, pointing. He eyes Mingi’s white dress shirt. “Do - do you have any extra clothes, Mr. Song?” 

Mingi mumbles something and Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, leaning forward. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Yeosang says for the other hybrid. Seonghwa hums, nodding as he sits back. 

“I’ll lend you my jacket, then. Just bring it back tomorrow.” 

Mingi nods and Seonghwa watches him go, Yeosang following and asking if he wants him to call someone named ‘Yunho’. 

“Mr. Song, please, stay,” Seonghwa says, gesturing to the chair placed against a wall. Mingi eyes it warily and Seonghwa gets up, walking over to the chair to pick it up and bring it over. 

“Sit,” he says, pointing to the chair. Mingi is quick to obey, though he bites his lip and balls his hands into fists where they rest on his thighs. 

“Is - did I do something wrong, sir?” 

“Why were you bleeding?” Seonghwa says. Mingi stares at him. “No, I’m serious, Mr. Song. Why were you bleeding?” 

Mingi shifts in his seat, uncomfortable. He touches his chest gingerly and averts his eyes, bringing his hand back down to rest it in his lap. 

“I - I have a back problem,” he mumbles. “Just - it’s-”

“You can’t get surgery, can you?” Seonghwa says. Mingi shakes his head. “And you need surgery?” Mingi nods, and Seonghwa sits back with a frustrated sigh. “Mr. Song, please, if you have such problems, _tell me._ I can help you.” He shakes his head and opens the drawer in his desk, pulling out a checkbook. 

“It’s my binder,” Mingi blurts suddenly. Seonghwa stops writing and looks up, arching an eyebrow. 

“Your . . . binder?” he says. Mingi nods, clearly embarrassed. 

“I - I’m trans, actually,” he whispers. He twiddles his thumbs. “I’m transgender, and I have to wear a binder because I can’t get any sort of surgery without an owner or claimer in the very least and-”

“What’s your address, Mr. Song?” Seonghwa interrupts. He opens his computer. “It’s almost time for you to go home; I want to do some research so I can give you enough money for this. I’ll drop it off at your place. What’s your address?” 

He heads to Mingi’s apartment late at night, though he doesn’t expect either of them to be awake. However, on the way, Seonghwa - someone who has always hated being driven by someone else, even if he doesn’t have a choice - crashes his car on a near-empty highway. 

The hybrid coughs and leans back in his seat, trying to calm his breathing. He can tell right away that he isn’t bleeding and that whatever injuries he has will be fixable. Right now, the only thing that hurts is his ankle. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?

However, Seonghwa doesn’t think his car is going to make it. He gets out slowly and stumbles a bit, cursing himself for that extra glass of wine he had earlier to calm his nerves. He’s got a good alcohol tolerance, probably something that has to do with how early he started drinking. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Seonghwa mumbles, touching his hand to his temple. His head is spinning and his steps are all over the place. That can’t be good. 

_Keep moving, Seong._

“Keep moving, Seong,” the hybrid echoes to himself. “Come on, you’re twenty years old. You can do it.” 

He somehow manages to walk to Mingi’s apartment. He adjusts his hat and prays he looks decent as he knocks on the door, standing straighter. 

It opens, and there stands a soft-faced dog hybrid. Seonghwa’s breath catches in his throat as he and the other hybrid lock eyes, staring at each other. 

“You-”

“Is Mingi Song here?” Seonghwa interrupts. He shakes his head at the other hybrid. “I have money for his surgeries and I’ve done some work for claiming.”

“I - he - he’s asleep,” the dog hybrid says. He stares at Seonghwa. “I can take it for you if you’d like.” 

“Who are you?” Seonghwa says. “Is this the right place?” 

“I’m his boyfriend, Yunho,” Yunho says. He steps aside, gesturing toward the inside of the apartment. “You wanna come in?” 

“Here,” Yunho says, offering Seonghwa a cup of tea. The designer nods as he takes it, staring into the mug with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

“So,” he says quietly, “you’re Mingi’s boyfriend?” 

Yunho nods and hums. 

“And you’re a world-famous designer,” Yunho says. He glances over. “You’ve both stayed the same and turned into a completely different person compared to the orphanage.” 

“We never talked,” Seonghwa says bluntly. He leans back on the couch. “I hardly knew you.” 

Yunho shrugs. 

“I suppose,” he says. He glances, once again, at Seonghwa. “I never said you did.” 

“You said that I’d both changed and stayed the same,” Seonghwa says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I have-”

“Yu?” a voice asks sleepily. Both hybrids look up and find Mingi to be standing in the doorway of one of the rooms, rubbing his eyes. Seonghwa gets up and puts his cup down. 

“Hey, princess,” Yunho says softly. He gets up and walks over to the dog hybrid, nuzzling him. “Your boss came to drop some money off.” 

Seonghwa nods, bowing his head. 

“Yes,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Song.” He turns to Yunho. “Thank you for the tea and hospitality. I wish you luck, and, if anything happens when you try to get the surgeries, call me. Mingi knows my number.” 

He leaves quickly, then, feeling like he’s intruding far too much. He gets home and draws and smokes and drinks until he thinks he can actually _hear_ Minseok talking to him. It’s not just Minseok, either - Eomma’s voice rings in his ears and so does Andre’s and Mrs. Lee’s and Mr. Lee’s and Soyeon’s and Suho’s and, oh, _God,_ San’s voice is there. Korean and English blur together and Seonghwa covers his ears as he sobs into his notebook, shaking violently. 

_Leave me alone,_ he thinks, though it’s really much more like he’s begging. _Please, just leave me alone._

The voices come every now and then. Whenever he’s alone and he’s had too much to drink, Seonghwa can hear them whispering to him. He hates them and loves them all at the same time, though he doubts that they’re healthy. Yet, for some reason, Seonghwa simply allows them to stay. 

“Here I am,” he says, bursting into the hospital waiting room. Mingi and Yunho stick out like two sore thumbs, from their ears and tails to the fact that they’re both two tall Asian guys sitting together and talking quietly to each other. Seonghwa walks up to the front desk, adjusting his sunglasses, and he pulls out a card. 

“The dog hybrid, the mutt, I’m his claimer,” Seonghwa says. He presses the card down and slides it over. “Treat him now and no funny business unless you want to get sued.” 

The secretary nods and then, not long after, Mingi is taken away. Seonghwa sighs, annoyed as he goes to sit beside Yunho. 

“What happened?” the dog hybrid says to him. Seonghwa looks over, arching an eyebrow and pushing his sunglasses up. 

“What do you mean?” he says. 

“You’re a lot more assertive than you used to be,” Yunho says. Seonghwa hums, shrugging. 

“Going through the shit I did can make you change your attitude a lot,” he says, shrugging yet again. Yunho laughs softly and they begin to talk, falling into easy conversation as they wait for Mingi. 

“All right,” Seonghwa says, getting up and dusting himself off. His lips twitch. “I’ll see you two soon.” 

It isn’t long before Seonghwa is back in a hospital, demanding that Mingi is treated. He’s fuming, as this certainly isn’t helping his temper since he was just put behind schedule by one of his other incompetent employees. Gosh, who hires these people? It mustn’t be him because Seonghwa has a dumbass radar, though he might’ve grown numb to it since it’s probably going off all the time. 

Seonghwa scoffs to himself, shaking his head. It’s late even though Mingi and Yunho came here earlier, though the prejudices and laws against hybrids are shit and a pain in the ass to deal with and stuff like that can take way longer than just a few minutes. 

“It’s going to take a few hours,” Yunho tells him. Seonghwa hums and nods, continuing to work. 

“I’ll sue them if anything happens,” he says. “Just keep me updated.” 

Yunho hums back, and they sit in silence for quite a while. At some point, though, Yunho strikes a conversation with Seonghwa and they start talking again. Thankfully, the dog hybrid seems to have realized that Seonghwa doesn’t enjoy talking about his childhood. 

Once all of the surgery fiascos are finished and Mingi is back at work, his secretary tells him that he needs an assistant. Seonghwa frowns. 

“No,” he says. He crosses his arms. “I’ve already had two, and I don’t ever plan on making that mistake again. Worthless, useless - it was just a waste of time.” 

Mingi nods quickly, fiddling with the tablet he’s holding. Seonghwa frowns at it and holds his hand out, a groan already building in his throat. 

“Dismissed,” he says to Mingi, waving his hand. The hybrid races out as Seonghwa skims the report, growing angrier with each word read. 

“God fucking dammit!” he yells, tossing the tablet to the side. He scowls. “I can’t get shit done around here because all of my employees are so fucking stupid!” 

Fuming, Seonghwa storms out of his office. He can tell that everyone knows he’s moody, and yet-

“Mr. Park!” 

_Fan-fucking-tastic._

“The hell you want?” Seonghwa says gruffly, shoving a cigarette into his mouth and lighting it. This stupid little employee - Sam or something along those lines - has had a crush on him since day one, and Seonghwa wishes he could fire him. Unfortunately, his father or mother is some important politician who, in the social hierarchy of their society, ranks higher than Seonghwa. So, if he wants to rise higher, he’s going to have to keep this kid around. 

“I wanted to show you this, sir!” 

Seonghwa hums and takes the tablet, making sure to delete whatever he sees before shoving the tablet into his bag. 

“Excuse me,” he says none-too-kindly. He walks out of the office and turns on his car, driving away. 

Later, after he’s returned to his penthouse, Seonghwa looks through the list of hybrids who have been brought to America. He skims through, looking for-

_Hongjoong Kim._

Seonghwa’s interest is piqued by the little picture of a cat hybrid and he taps on the profile, reading about this strange little Hongjoong Kim. He’s from Korea and he just got his citizenship. He came to America a few years ago, and was pursuing-

“A degree in design,” Seonghwa says out loud. He stares, wide-eyed, at the profile. “He’s - he wants to be - he’s like me.” 

The realization makes Seonghwa’s heart leap into his throat. He digs his nails into the tablet as he stares, his heart thundering. 

_You need to hire an assistant._

Seonghwa lifts his hand slowly, staring at the little button to get contact information about the hybrid. His finger is shaking. Seonghwa’s breathing is audible over the soft piano he’s playing. 

_Keep moving, Seong._

Seonghwa presses the button, and then, just a little while later, Hongjoong Kim comes to his building looking for a job. He’s hired. 

And Seonghwa’s entire life has been shifted from the moment he makes that decision. 

Seonghwa grins to himself as he adjusts the fedora on his head, looking up at the two hybrids headed toward the alleyway. 

_How lovely,_ he thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> Love you!!! I'm working on a Valentine's Day fic rn, but the third part of this series is coming!


End file.
